


four in the morning we find ourselves here

by wallstracktwo



Series: Tea and Cake [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Non Famous Harry and Louis, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 12:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19701796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallstracktwo/pseuds/wallstracktwo
Summary: “I am so confused right now and definitely not sober enough for this.” Louis took a sip from the mug the man had handed him, immediately coughing and spitting the rest of what was in his mouth back into the mug. “Oh my god, this has to be the absolute worst cup of tea I’ve ever had. Have you ever even made tea before?”Or - Not your average one night stand AU





	four in the morning we find ourselves here

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sad that I wasn't able to complete last week's prompt, but I wound up in the hospital the very day I got home from vacation. So this is the result of sleep deprivation, pain meds and chemo - I don't even know what else to say about it.
> 
> This is part of a Wordplay prompt challenge for the prompt "zebra". To read the amazing fics that were written by the others on this prompt, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/zebra), and to see all fics written as part of the challenge (including years 1 and 2), [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/wordplay_fic_challenge/works). You can also find the masterpost for this year’s challenge [here](https://wordplayfics.tumblr.com/post/185709101043/wordplay-2019-every-week-for-five-weeks-a-prompt).
> 
> Title comes from 4AM by Bastille.
> 
> I own nothing except the words (and mistakes) written below.
> 
> Please do not repost this anywhere. I am not allowing for any reposts or translations. Thank you for understanding.
> 
> Without further ado...
> 
> Enjoy!

_ ~~~~~~~~ _

_ ~~Louis~~ _

“Oh. My. God. You have  _ got  _ to be fucking kidding me.”

Louis managed to sort of ‘half-push/half-wiggle’ his way out from underneath the body that was laying on top of him. After a little bit of effort, he was able to force the body off and it slumped over onto the bed next to where he was lying. Staring up at the ceiling, he let out a deep, long, heavy sigh before turning onto his side, poking the man in the ribs, “hey...hey.”

No answer. No movement. Nothing.

“Well at least you’re breathing. There’s that I guess,” he said out loud to no one in particular. 

One minute he and Mike (was it?) or Matt (maybe?) or had he said his name was Mark? Anyway, one minute they were making out, their hands roaming over the other’s body, gripping, kneading, their tongues tangled but then suddenly everything came to a standstill and Louis felt him fall forward, his entire weight landing exclusively on top of him. It didn’t matter what the fuck his name was now considering the fact that he was fully passed out on the bed, leaving Louis out of breath, still turned on and extremely pissed off.

“Fuckin’ great.”

This was a disastrous end to a night that had started out so well. He and his best friend Liam had decided to begin their lads night out at their favorite bar, Murph’s. Louis was looking to pull and go home with a handsome stranger, and so he had put a lot of time, thought and effort into his outfit. He had chosen his very best black skinny jeans, the ones that showed off the curves of his hips and accentuated his ass. He picked out a sheer white polo shirt, allowing his chest tattoo to peek out, begging to be touched and licked. 

He and Liam had arrived at the bar, promptly making their way through the crowd to the counter, ordering drinks from their favorite bartender, Tony. Three (or was it four?) shots later, Louis was letting himself be pulled out onto the dance floor by a gorgeous man. Louis couldn’t make out what the stranger was saying over the thumping bass coming from the speakers and wasn’t sure if he had said his name was Mike or Matt or Mark. Whatever his name was, he was just Louis’ type - tall, beautiful, flirty, an excellent kisser and Louis knew as soon as their lips met that he would be ending his night in this man’s bed. (He just didn’t know it at the time, but he’d be laying next to a drunken, passed out hook up.)

After a couple more rounds of shots, Louis motioned across the bar to Liam that he was leaving and the two men headed out to have their own private party. They wound up at Mike/Matt/Mark’s place and Louis was immediately shoved against the door as soon as it closed.

Buttons began being unbuttoned, zippers were unzipped, hands found their way inside of clothing and the two fumbled their way down the hallway to the bedroom. And just when things had really started to heat up, the man did the unthinkable. He had passed out.

Louis mumbled to himself as he reached over the side of the bed, grabbing his jeans and pulling his phone out. He had intended on calling himself an uber. However there were two small problems.

One - he had absolutely  _ no  _ idea where the fuck he was. He had been too horny, too ready to be fucked to pay attention to any cross streets along the way. He hadn’t even taken notice of the address or building where Mike/Matt/Mark lived.

As for his second problem? His phone was dead.

He raked his fingers through his hair, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, standing up slowly as he pulled his jeans on and gathered his shoes and socks.

He took one final disappointing look back at the man - fuck, they could have been so good together. The sex was sure to have been amazing. Maybe they’d see each other some other weekend and could pick up where they left off. Louis knew that was unlikely, but figured it was a nice thought to leave on anyway.

He slipped out of the bedroom quietly and made his way slowly down the hall. He noticed the kitchen light was on and stopped in the doorway. 

Standing at the stove with back to Louis was a tall muscular man softly humming a song. The skinny jeans he was wearing looked as though they had to have been painted onto his body. Louis couldn’t help that his eyes wandered from the man’s broad shoulders, down to his hips, landing on his ass. His perky, round, firm ass.

If Louis thought he was turned on before, god damn he had been totally wrong.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Uh...um,” Louis cleared his throat. “What?”

“You heard me. I know that you’re checking out my ass, so go ahead and take a picture.”

Who the fuck was this guy? Louis was in  _ no  _ mood for this asshole - he was horny, he was pissed and he had no idea where he was. He decided two could play that game.

“I would, but my phone died.”

There was immediate laughter and then the man slowly began to turn around. He leaned against the counter, their eyes locking and Louis knew at once.

He was fucked.

_ ~~~~~~~~ _

_ ~~Harry~~ _

“Oh. My. God. You have  _ got  _ to be fucking kidding me.”

Harry looked down at the man underneath him, he was completely passed out and...was he snoring? He was. He was fucking snoring. Harry climbed off of him, slumping over onto his back next to where the body lay out cold. Staring up at the ceiling, he let out a deep, long, heavy sigh, before turning onto his side, poking the man in the ribs, “hey...hey.”

No answer. No movement. Nothing.

“Well at least you’re breathing. There’s that I guess,” he said out loud to no one in particular.

One minute he and Tim (was it?) or Tom (maybe?) or had he said his name was Todd? Anyway, one minute they were making out, their hands roaming over the other’s body, gripping, kneading, their tongues tangled but then suddenly everything came to a standstill and Harry felt him pull away, his head slumping to the side, snores filling the dark room. It didn’t matter now what the fuck his name was now considering the fact that he was fully passed out on the bed, leaving Harry out of breath, still turned on and extremely pissed off.

“Fuckin’ great.”

This was a disastrous end to a night that had started out so well. He and his best friend Niall had decided to begin their lads night out at their favorite bar, Murph’s. Harry was looking to pull and go home with a handsome stranger, and so he had put a lot of time, thought and effort into his outfit. He had chosen his very best skinny jeans, the ones that looked like they had been painted on, the ones that showed off the curves of his hips and accentuated his ass. He picked out a bright pink polka-dotted button down shirt, leaving several buttons undone, allowing his chest tattoo to peek out, begging to be touched and licked.

He and Niall had arrived at the bar, promptly making their way through the crowd to the counter, ordering drinks from their favorite bartender, Tony. Three (or was it four?) shots later, Harry was pulling a gorgeous man out onto the dance floor. Harry couldn’t make out what the stranger was saying over the thumping bass coming from the speakers and wasn’t sure if he had said his name was Tim or Tom or Todd. Whatever his name was, he was just Harry’s type - petite, curvy, sexy, an excellent kisser and Harry knew as soon as their lips met that he would be ending his night in this man’s bed. (He just didn’t know it at the time, but he’d be laying next to a drunken, passed out hook up.)

After a couple more rounds of shots, Harry motioned across the bar to Niall that he was leaving and the two men headed out to have their own private party. They wound up at Tim/Tom/Todd’s place and as soon as the door closed, Harry pushed the man against it.

Buttons began being unbuttoned, zippers were unzipped, hands found their way inside of clothing and the two fumbled their way down the hallway to the bedroom. And just when things had really started to heat up, the man did the unthinkable. He had passed out.

Harry mumbled to himself as he reached over the side of the bed, grabbing his jeans and pulling his phone out. He had intended on calling himself an uber. However there were two small problems.

One - he had absolutely  _ no  _ idea where the fuck he was. He had been too horny, too ready to fuck to pay attention to any cross streets along the way. He hadn’t even taken notice of the address or building where Tim/Tom/Todd lived.

As for his second problem? His phone was dead.

He raked his fingers through his hair, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, standing up slowly as he pulled his jeans on and gathered his shoes and socks.

He took one final disappointing look back at the man - fuck, they could have been so good together. The sex was sure to have been amazing. Maybe they’d see each other some other weekend and could pick up where they left off. Harry knew that was unlikely, but figured it was a nice thought to leave on anyway.

He slipped out of the bedroom and made his way slowly down the hall, stopping in the kitchen. He decided to make himself a cup of tea in the hopes of sobering up a little before heading out into the crisp October night and so he filled the kettle with water before placing it on the burner to boil.

Standing at the stove, his back to the doorway, he heard another door close and then footsteps approaching.

He could feel eyes watching him and before he could stop himself, called out “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Uh...um,” he heard the man clear his throat before asking, “what?”

He was horny, he was still a little buzzed, he was lost somewhere in the city and he was  _ not  _ in the mood for this. “You heard me. I know that you’re checking out my ass, so go ahead and take a picture.”

“I would, but my phone died.”

He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, this was quite unexpected. He slowly turned around, leaning up against the counter, immediately locking eyes with the man and Harry knew in an instant.

He was fucked.

_ ~~~~~~~~ _

_ ~~Louis~~ _

Ever since Louis first took an interest in guys, he had had a type. He liked tall, handsome, muscular, sexy, flirty men. Men who could manhandle him, push him against walls, toss him onto beds. Men who could appreciate his sarcastic sense of humor. Men who could not only keep up with him but also leave him wanting more.

He had had one serious relationship in the past 18 months - Jack.

They had met in typical rom-com fashion, when they both grabbed for the same bestseller at the small bookstore near Louis’ job. Their eyes had immediately found the others and Louis felt butterflies in his stomach and a knot in his throat.

Jack was physically everything that Louis had ever wanted, but then he actually got to know him and it hadn’t taken long for him to fall head over heels in love with Jack.

They were together for eight months before things started going downhill. First came the late nights at work, then the arguing, then the silence and finally the cliche ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech.

Louis had been devastated when Jack broke his heart and so he had sworn off relationships, opting instead for one night stands where he could leave in the middle of the night with his heart still intact.

Looking back, it was obvious to Louis that his feelings for Jack were more intense than Jack’s were for his. Louis tended to leap first, putting his whole heart on the line and that’s exactly what he had done with Jack - falling hard and falling fast.

He had always thought that Jack was the one that got away - his soulmate, his other half.

He had been wrong.

Standing in a strange kitchen, in the middle of the night, eyes locked with a tall, incredibly sexy man wearing only jeans, Louis felt something he had never felt with Jack.

One by one the butterflies in his stomach began fluttering. The lump in his throat slowly started getting bigger and bigger. He could sense his knees buckling.

This was it. This is what the movies depicted, what novels described, what most people yearned for.  _ This  _ was love at first sight.

The man was laughing, a dimple forming in his right cheek and then another in his left as his green eyes glistened in the soft glow of the kitchen light.

“You’re cute, I like you. Want a cuppa tea?” The man finally spoke, breaking the trance Louis had found himself under.

He nodded as the man motioned for him to have a seat at the tiny kitchen table. A few moments later the man sat across from him, placing a mug with the words “Coffee: Because crack will get you fired” in front of him, “sorry, there’s no milk. I’m Harry by the way.”

“Wait...what? You can't be serious. How do you not have any milk? Especially for tea? Isn’t that illegal or something?”

The man sat down opposite Louis, giggling. “I could ask you the same thing, it’s your apartment, you tell me.”

Louis’ eyebrows began to crease, confusion creeping into the lines across his forehead. “It’s not my apartment, I don’t live here.”

“Yeah, well...neither do I.”

“I am so confused right now and definitely not sober enough for this.” Louis took a sip from the mug the man had handed him, immediately coughing and spitting the rest of what was in his mouth back into the mug. “Oh my god, this has to be the absolute  _ worst  _ cup of tea I’ve ever had. Have you ever even  _ made _ tea before?”

“Fuck off. Of course I’ve made tea before. Not my fault all this place has is some generic store brand. Besides it can’t be  _ that _ bad, you’re just being dramatic.” He took a sip, following Louis’ lead and spitting the rest back into the cup in front of him. “Oh god, you’re right - this is _ terrible _ . No, horrible.”

Louis smiled, thrilled to have been proven right. “Told ya. Who the fuck would drink this?” He took both mugs, dumping the tea down the drain before returning to the table.

“Probably the guy passed out in the bedroom.” He motioned with his head to the hallway.

Louis’ top lip curled into a smirk. “Or the one passed out in the other bedroom.”

~~~~~~~~

~~ _ Harry _ ~~

Ever since Harry first took an interest in guys, he had a type. He liked petite, curvy, sexy, handsome, flirtatious men. Men who had a really good sense of humor and who could keep him on his toes. Men who he could push up against walls, men who would wrap their legs around his waist and who he could carry to the bedroom. Men who could not only keep up with him but also leave him wanting more.

He had had a string of short term relationships over the past 18 months, the longest lasting four months - Zack.

They had met at a coffee shop when Zack had picked up a drink meant for Harry.

Zack was physically everything that Harry had ever wanted, but then he actually got to know him and it hadn’t taken long for him to fall head over heels in love with Zack.

It wasn’t too far into their relationship before Harry realized they had completely different interests. They could never seem to agree on which movie to watch or which restaurant to go to and then the fighting had started. 

Harry had been devastated when Zack broke his heart and so he had sworn off relationships, opting instead for one night stands where he could leave in the middle of the night with his heart still intact.

Looking back, it was obvious to Harry that his feelings for Zack were more intense than Zack’s were for his. Harry tended to leap first, putting his whole heart on the line and that’s exactly what he had done with Zack - falling hard and falling fast.

He had always thought that Zack was the one that got away - his soulmate, his other half.

He had been wrong.

Sitting in a strange kitchen, in the middle of the night, drinking shitty tea with an incredibly sexy man, Harry felt something he had never felt with Zack.

“Wait. So you’re telling me you came home with Mike/Matt/Mark and he passed out? And I came home with Tim/Tom/Todd and he passed out? And now we’re sitting in their kitchen at -” he looked to the digital clock on the stove, “almost four in the morning, drinking their horribly shitty store brand tea?”

Louis nodded. “Yes and I’m starving and since we can’t order in, I’m gonna rummage through their cabinets for snacks.” He walked over to the cabinets and opened one, then a second, then a third. “Bingo!”

He turned around, a grin on his face from ear to ear, holding a box with a cartoon zebra wearing a pair of sunglasses. “Zebra cakes! Oh my god, I haven’t had one of these since I was a kid.”

He walked back to the table and dumped the box out, mini black and white frosted cakes spilling onto the table. “Here, have one...or two...or ten!”

“What the hell is a zebra cake?”

Louis gasped. “Excuse me!” His eyes widened, “please tell me you’re joking? You don’t know what a zebra cake is? Only  _ the  _ most delicious snack cake of all time.” He opened up a package and shoved it up to Harry’s mouth. “Taste.”

Harry saw the sparkle in Louis’ eyes and knew all at once that he would do anything Louis said if it meant he got to see that sparkle constantly.

He took a bite and coughed. “Holy fuck, that is horrible. It’s pure sugar, fuck, how can anyone eat that?” He spit the chewed up cake into a paper towel, tossing it into the garbage. “Fuck, that is nasty! How can you eat that?”

Louis took a bite. “What are you talking about?” He mumbled, his mouth full of cake and icing. “They’re amazing, how could anyone  _ not  _ love a zebra cake, who even are you? Are you even human?”

“I already told you. I’m Harry.”

Louis giggled. “That you did. And I guess since we’re bonding over shitty tea and zebra cakes it’s only fair you know my name as well. Louis.”

“Louis.” Harry said ever so softly. So softly not even Louis himself heard.

“So Harry, tell me, do you have a habit of winding up in strange kitchens of passed out men at four in the morning?”

He held up a finger to his chin, tapping one, two, then three times, as though he actually had to think about and count all the times this had happened to him. “You know something, I do believe this is a first for me.”

Louis smiled. A genuine smile that reached his eyes. Harry was smitten, there was no denying it.

“Yeah. A first for me as well.” 

~~~~~~~~

~~ _ Louis _ ~~

“No way! I go there all the time! How have I never seen you there?”

Louis was leaning against the counter, shocked after learning that Harry had been going to Murph’s, his and Liam’s favorite bar, for over a year.

“I honestly have no idea since I’m there most Fridays. But I will tell you this, Tony makes the best -”

“Long Island Iced Teas!” Louis finished the sentence.

Harry shook his head. “This is too much, what are the odds?” He leaned back in his chair, “Remind me to send Mike/Matt/Mark and Tim/Tom/Todd some  _ real _ tea and zebra cakes as a thank you for passing out.”

Louis began laughing. “Is it bad that we met while having failed one night stands? Like how would that work when people ask us how we’ve met?” He stopped laughing and paused, “I mean, I was just thinking...you know...what a funny...um, you know what, nevermind.”

Harry stood up and walked over to Louis, placing his hands on either side of his hips. “When someone asks me how we met I will look them in the eyes and tell them ‘late one night over shitty tea and zebra cakes’ and this confused look will come over their face and you and I will laugh because it will be our very own inside joke.” He paused, “Louis, look at me. Please.”

Louis looked up at Harry slowly, afraid of what he would see. He had never felt like this before and it both terrified  _ and  _ excited him.

Their eyes met and all Louis could see was Harry’s emerald eyes shining down on him.

“This is going to sound so insanely crazy that I can’t believe the words are about to come out of my mouth - but there’s something here, between us, right? You feel it too don’t you?” He took a deep breath, his fingers squeezing Louis’ sides. “You are...everything that I have ever wanted. And I know we just met like two hours ago, but I’ve known since the moment I first laid eyes on you that...that I have  _ never _ felt something as strong as this before and I want to see where this goes, where we go and I want to know all about you - your favorite movie, your favorite color but most of all I really, really want to kiss you.”

Louis’ breath hitched as Harry finished his speech. Not breaking their eye contact he spoke softly, “Grease...green and I really, really want you to.”

Harry brushed his lips against Louis’ and closed his eyes. Louis followed, closing his and placing his hands on Harry’s arms. 

Louis opened his mouth for Harry and tasted him. He tasted like stale tea and sugar and cake - a little sweet, a little savory. Louis knew without a shadow of a doubt that Harry had just ruined him for other guys. One taste of Harry would simply never be enough. There was no turning back. He was addicted.

~~~~~~~~

~~ _ Harry _ ~~

The sun had just started to peek through, night was slowly changing over to morning yet the last thing Harry wanted to do was say goodbye to Louis.

“When can I see you again?”

They had exchanged numbers the old-fashioned way - with paper and pencils. Since both of their phones were dead, they had tucked the pieces of paper containing their respective numbers into their jeans pockets to be plugged into their contact lists as soon as possible. Louis lifted his head up off of Harry’s shoulder. “Meet me at Sylvio’s tomorrow morning for a  _ real  _ cup of tea, not whatever the fuck that was that you tried getting me to drink before.”

Harry reached over and cupped Louis’ face, “I’d meet you anywhere,” he rubbed his thumb along his cheek. His eyes traveled from Louis’ eyes to his lips to his eyes back to his lips as Louis darted his tongue out, licking his bottom lip.

It was the only sign he needed as he leaned in, brushing their lips together gently. His tongue licked across Louis’ bottom lip, seeking entrance. Louis slowly opened his mouth, allowing Harry to tangle their tongues and taste Louis again.

He tasted of shitty tea, vanilla cake and sugary icing. It was a taste that Harry had never tasted before nor would he ever taste anything more wonderful for the rest of his life. 

The conductor came over the loudspeaker announcing that Louis’ stop was next.

They broke apart, Louis sighed before opening his eyes. “This is me I guess.”

“Yeah.” He caught Louis’ lips for one last kiss before watching him stand and make his way to the train door.

The train slowed to a stop. “11 am?”

Harry nodded, “11 is perfect.” As Louis took a step off of the train and onto the platform, Harry called out to him, ‘hey Louis, I take it back.” Louis turned, his brows furrowing, his eyes searching Harry’s face for clarification. “About what I said before...about zebra cakes…I love the taste of them.” He winked as the doors closed and the train pulled away from the station. He watched as Louis shook his head, a smile breaking out on his face from ear to ear. He blew Louis a kiss as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, an identical smile appearing on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you dear Reader for indulging me once again and reading the wild ramblings that take place in my brain.
> 
> Until next time...


End file.
